Glass Can't Protect Anything
by Makami
Summary: A little oneshot inspired by a test I took on 'The White Pages', WK website. Just about someone who gest close to RanAya, and their thoughts on him. Semisweet, slightly romantic, maybe a little sad.


Another one of my older fanfictions(if you have no idea who I am, don't listen to that little rambling. I'm posting up older fanfics that I'm a little proud of). Now, before I say anything else, don't even try to guess who's POV this is. It's no one's, and anyone's. Really. I wrote it so be either a man or woman, OC or even perhaps a member of Weiss(well, not that freely... it was a while ago, and I wasn't as 'in to' the other members of Weiss as I am now, only Ran). So, feel free to use your imagination. It can be just about anyone you want it to be.

**Glass Can't Protect Anything**

* * *

The darkness of the room is soothing to my nerves. I feel relaxed as I enter his room. A breeze ruffles the curtains through the open window, the only detectable movement. The room itself in nearly bare, containing only a desk and a bed. I walk across the room, trying to miss the creaky, old floorboards, but somehow I'm stepping on all of them. Seriously, can I be ANY louder at this moment? But it doesn't seem to matter. He doesn't stir. Even though I can only see his faint outline, I know that for sure. 

"Aya-kun," I whisper to him, slowly sliding down on to his bed. Now he rolls over and acknowledges my presence. Of course, his face is as emotionless as it always is, so I have to imagine that he looks delighted to see me. That's a good one... Aya looking delighted... "Mm, Aya-kun, you didn't wait up for me, did you?"

He sits up slowly as I crawl towards him. Somehow I can just sense that he's feeling awkward. Might it be that he wasn't expecting me? I'm never this late, so he probably went ahead and got naked, which is how he likes to sleep, then went to bed. He doesn't usually like to be caught off guard like this. Which means... I can't help myself and blush. Dirty thoughts dance around my mind. I know I'm late, and I'm tired, and some nice dreams are going to be dreamt!

He leans in and places a chaste kiss on my lips, then mumbles, "No. Are you tired?"

He makes sure that his lower half is covered. I sit back on my heels and drop my hands into my lap. We stare at each other, even if we can't really see. The filtered moonlight reflects in his eyes. He's so beautiful, so perfect... I wonder what he thinks of me. I can never figure out what's going on in that red head of his.

He's sad, I know. He's been away for the past few days. He's always sad when he returns, but I've learned not to ask why. I don't want to see him look at me with those haunted eyes again.

"A little," I confess, crawling forward. I lean against his warm body, pressing my ear to his chest. His heart is racing, betraying his calm demeanour. I can't help but smile. "Say, Aya-kun, do you feel nervous?"

"Hn."

"Maybe... excited then?"

The end of my little guessing game.

After a small sigh his arms wrap around my body. His arms are warm and strong; I always feel safe in them, but they're tense. They're _always_ tense. Sometimes I think that he's worried, that, if he relaxes, I might break, or something. It's a little silly. I'm stronger than he is. I know that little secret of his. I know how fragile, like glass, he is. He thinks he's kept it from me, but I know.

"Did I wake you when I came in?" I ask softly. He merely shugs. A little annoyed, I whisper, "Aya-kun... kiss me."

A moment passes before his hand softly caresses my cheek, lifting my chin. His lips claim mine, tenderly yet desperately, placing all of his hidden sorrows into it. The gentle kiss grows rough and demanding. I can almost feel the pain in his heart. As usual I welcome him in, snaking my arms around his neck, parting my lips slightly to that his tongue can slip in and explore my mouth. He holds me just a little tighter to his body, deepening the kiss.

He wants me to take him out of his misery.

We part, and both of us are breathing heavily. He was gone last night, and I'm almost certain that he'll be gone tomorrow night, too. That's why he's desperate tonight. That's why, even if only for a moment, he wants the pain to leave his heart.

"Aishiteru," I mumble, kissing his soft lips again. I'm never sure if that's what he wants to hear, but I tell him anyway.

I wonder how he feels about me...?

He pushes me down onto my back, keeping himself on top of me. He places tender kisses on my neck and collar bone. Strands of crimson hair tickle my skin. His hands slip under the small of my back, pulling me closer, if it's possible. He showers me with affection, whispering sweet-nothings between kisses. He's trying hard, doing things that he doesn't know how to do... My hands slip down from around his neck and wrap around his body, a silent order for him to stop. He knows it well, adjusting his position so that he comfortably lays, half-on-half-off me.

A song finds its way off my lips, my fingers gently playing with his hair. Now he rests his head on my chest, listening to my heartbeat. We've switched places, but when don't we? I think he likes this better. Better than holding me, better than holding up his mask.

He shudders, but whether it's from the chill in the air or silent crying, I don't know.

Eventually I end up sitting against the headboard. His body is wrapped up in the blanket, knees drawn to his chest, and then I surround him. His head rests on my shoulder. I smile, brush his hair from his eyes, and kiss the tip of his nose. He looks so sad in his sleep, and somehow he also looks relaxed.

Only now, when he's sleeping in my arms, does he ever look relaxed. He can let his mask slip a little, and give me a real chance to mend his wounded soul. It's better this way, me protecting this broken man. The real "him" has shattered in to a million pieces, desperately trying to protect something, but... _glass can't protect anything._


End file.
